Something Wicked
by GhostRider'sAngel
Summary: (Xover with Buffy/Avengers/Ghost Rider) Death had always escaped Johnny Blaze. Dancing just beyond the grip of his frostbitten fingertips, Death teased him. Always, Always, he could hear her whisper among the other voices that accompanied him.


Okay Ive given up on Dance with the Damned. I don't think anyone even read's my story anymore. So ...I decided to go a different route. This will still have the same content as Dance with the Damned but it will be darker in nature. Much darker. Anyway, the story will be explained later on through the chapters This will be a Xover between Avengers/

Buffy/Ghost Rider/ and X-men. Just a warning though many of the characters have been killed off. Why? Keep reading. So, Johhny looks like he did in the first movie and has received the curse of the Rider far earlier than in the movies. Let me know which you would rather see carry on: This story or Dancing with the Damned. Thanks for your time.

Disclaimer: I do not own "Ghost Rider", "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer", "X-men", or "Avengers." This work of fiction was created purely for entertainment and no monetary gain was made.

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"Death is not the greatest of evils; it it worse to want to die, and not be able to." -Sophocles.

Prague,2007.

Would tonight be the night? Would they finally sacrifice him to the dark god they worshipped? He hoped,yearned that they would. Death had alwasys escaped Johnny Blaze. Dancing just beyond the grip of his frostbitten fingertips, Death teased him. Always, Always, he could hear her whisper among the other voices that accompanied it wasnt an actual voice but rather a feeling, a need to lay cold in the ground.

Memories began to surface in the drug-induced haze of his mind. Amid the constant cackling and screaming he could see himself, making the notorious jump from field goal to field goal. Why couldnt he just grown a spine and killed himself directl? Waiting to die was more painful than dying itself.

The sound of piano music seemed to pound him over the head due to his hangover but through the sound was painful it was beautiful. A part of him immediatly recognized that sound immediatly as one his sister played for him when his father went on drunken rages.

The song,'s name, which had become lost in the chaos that was now Johnny's mind , was the Moonlight Sonata. Slowly, he cracked open his apathetic blue eyes but winced at the bright light above. Pain lanced throug his eyes seeming to burn away his corneas.

Something cold wiped against his face and it took a moment for him to realize it was a hand. He had long ago lost the ability to understand any language and therefore couldn't understand the masked, blonde haired woman that hovered over him. From his angle, she was upside down, standing at the head of the gurney he was strapped to.

With hazy eyes, Johnny looked the background behind the woman .He must have been in a banquet hall, large windows with long cumbersome , burgandy drapes took up an entire wall. On the cieling glittered many different candles on ornate, ancient looking chanedeliers.

An I.V. bag was hooked to the skin of his left inner elbow with neon greed liquid sloshing around inside as the gurney was rolled into position. The mysterious cloaked figures had gathered around him with the familiar scent of blood flowing in the air. Still hovering, the masked woman looked down at him,over the hooked beak of her mask. Made from a fibrous gold material and trimed in black feathers, the mask covered the top half of her face leaving the part with her mouth visible.

Once more, the woman stroked his face with her unbearably cold fingers then she jerked her hand away quickly, and squawked in her airy language to someone he couldnt see. Amongst the rustle of heavy cloth and angry whispers, Johnny let his eyes close.

A harsh gutteral language filled his ears and the ex-biker looked up to see a runed book in the hands of the bird-like woman. Although he recognized the stress and rhythm of the language, he couldnt understand it.

The piano had long stopped playing to only to be replaced by a stil, eerie silence. Pain flared in the crook of Johnny's right elbow as four long fangs bit into his skin. The first bite was always the worst, even though the entire process was excruciating.

A sudden intake of breath helped Johnny deal with the pain but only slightly. For a reason he couldnt name, the man turned his head to see who was feeding on him. His assailant had the face of a child, but the eyes of a soldier. And, although looking into the eyes of the masters was forbidden Johnny continued gaze into the child's eyes. In those eyes, he saw fear and hunger. The age-old euphoria that came with blood letting began to slip over his mind. Drugged and tired as he was he had no choice but to let the memories come_._

_He was screaming again. He would scream until he coughed blood and then keep screaming. He knew no one could hear or rather that no one cared. His sides ached with hunger and he didn't know how long it had been since he had last had water. Deep gouges could be seen in the thick black stone that surrounded him from the day's times he clawed and banged his head in anguish. Voices came from the shadows begging him to talk. He happily obliged them, talking idly of past joys and sorrows._

_Pain seared his skin and electricity arched up his spine. Days and months were lost to darkness and agony. The cold black stone beneath him burned his skin as circular patterns pulsated with power. His knowledge of the supernatural was extensive but not even he knew what these symbols meant. Each wall of his perfectly square cell contained what looked like a concentric circle of runes. Every few minutes they flared bright orange and his whole body was filled with unbearable pain. While the ruins were brightest he could see his cell clearly. There were no bars no windows and no doors. No way of escape unless he could get his other self to emerge. When he slept, which wasn't ever for very long, his vision was filled with hell fire lashing through his subconscious like whips attacking a lion. Right before being woken yet again by the torturous runes he could just barely see the silhouette of a woman with fiery hair._

Suddenly, the child bit down hard onto his elbow tearing connective tissue and ligaments. He watched as the child pulled back, blood smeared on her face. Horror and fear could be seen in her crimson gaze but even as the child's mother came forward, she looked at Johnny who merely stared back.

Suddenly, the doors to the banquet hall crashed open and the smell of humans filled Johnny's nose. "Put you hands up," yelled a deep-voiced male. Johnny lay still, looking at the beautiful chandeliers. Of course, instead of cooperating the bird people screamed and began to charge the newcomers. Although, Johnny could not see the fight he could hear the pain screeching and squawking that usually accompanied a massacre of birds.

It took less than two minutes for the silence to come bearing down on him. The edges of his vision began to darken even when the image of a brunette appeared above him. 'I need oxygen and blankets!" the woman yelled. By now, the ex-biker was going into shock. His limbs shook and his breathing had quickened.

Before he could even blink, a clear mask was covering his nose and mouth while thick blankets were thrown onto his naked, restrained body. The woman who had asked for the blankets began to take bandages and wrap them around Johnny's wound in an effort to stop the bleeding. Quickly, Johnny was loaded into a dark colored ambulance but before the closed the door he could just make out the young vampire that had fed from him. Her dead, empty blue eyes stared blankly ahead, the blood still smeared on her face.


End file.
